From Bad to Worse
by Locknestra
Summary: When the biological parents of Greg Goyle get divorced, his mother thinks that now she can finally move on with her life. How wrong she is. (Based on chars from LJ RP LumosNox)
1. And so it begins

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The pair of high-heeled boots clicked audibly against the cobbled path that led from the guesthouse to the manor. The feet ran agitatedly as they got caught in the long cloak that swished near them. The rain poured heavily, causing the mascara on Talia's face to run down her cheeks. The smile that shone across her face proved she didn't care. She was finally in control of her life, and the person who prevented it was no longer her concern.

She wanted to show off the green halter-top and black mini-skirt she and Narcissa Malfoy had purchased earlier that day, but found her brother to have left the guesthouse for his flat. As she ran back, one particularly loud boom of thunder caused her to jump. She could have sworn she saw a figure move past the window, but then remembered that was impossible. She hugged her cloak tighter around her body and quickly entered the manor.

She shuddered again as she removed her cloak and squeezed out her dripping wet hair. Talia glanced around at the dimly lit study and noticed how fresh it smelled. The air was devoid of tobacco and alcohol and was pleasing. She threw her wet cloak over the tall chair that rested near her computer and headed for the library. A little giggle escaped her throat as she walked through the library and noted that not a book was out of place. The lounge was shrouded in darkness, which Talia found odd. She tried lighting the lamps, but found it difficult.

As soon as she stopped trying, the lights came up and Talia gasped. A red, Victorian-style armchair faced her. The occupant of the chair took a sip of the red wine from the glass they held. A calm, resonating voice cooed. "Good evening, Talia. I've been expecting you."

**Notes from the author**:   
Who is in the chair?   
Why did it shock Talia?   
Did she get her halter-top on _**SALE**_?  
  
Aren't you just in suspense?! _Let me know_!


	2. The Culprit is named

"What are you doing here?" she snapped. Talia's chest heaved and her jaw trembled slightly.

"That's hardly an appropriate response for your, dear, loving ex-husband." Nicholas took another sip of wine as he looked at her. "I thought I had taught you some manners." His eyebrows arched slightly.

Talia felt her hands balling up into fists, but she didn't feel the comfort of the dagger that was usually tucked up her sleeve, as her current outfit had none. "You taught me a great many things, Nicholas. None of them involved giving you any sort of courtesy."

"Temper, temper" he said calmly as he rose from his chair and set the glass on the nearby end table. "and to think, when we were first married, I used to love the fact that you were so feisty. Made it a challenge for me to tame you." He eyed her carefully, noting her aggressive stance and unusual outfit.

"You didn't know me as well as you thought, did you?" came the sarcastic reply.

"I know what I need to. Which is a great deal more then you believe I do." He smirked slightly, placed his arms behind his back and rocked back onto his heels slightly. "For example, I know that our young Miss Chang moved out last week. Pity she never reached her destination. Seems she ran into some trouble with her dear cousin." He paused slightly for effect before continuing. "I also know that your brother needed to return to his home, and that he will run into some trouble there, as well." He shook his head slightly in mock-pity. "That just leaves you. But don't think I left you out. I know you went shopping with Narcissa today, and the outfit I see before me is the product of said trip." He motioned to her outfit slightly before returning to his confident stance. "Your wand is upstairs in your bureau. I also know that the cutlery you are so fond of wearing has been significantly decreased due to the fact that your unusual choice of clothing. It doesn't provide many places for them, does it?"

"If you think that means I'm defenseless, you're sadly mistaken." she snapped.

"Of course not. I give you more credit then you give me. But you are the portion of the equation I do not wish to contend with." Talia felt something pierce her right shoulder slightly before her world went black.

**Authors notes:**   
GRRR!! What is he doing back? How did he escape Azkaban? And... how did he get to her shoulder when he's still across the room from her?  
  
Comments? Concerns? Conundrums? Catastrophes? _REVIEW_!


	3. One Question Answered

The room was dark and hazy, Talia's head was swimming. She couldn't focus on her surroundings, it felt like she was underwater. "Drink." Came Nicholas' stern voice and a teacup came into contact with her lower lip.

She turned her head away sharply. "So you can poison me? Not bloody likely!"

"If I'd wanted you dead, you would have been by now. Now drink!" The impact of the cup to her lip was much more forceful this time, and she grudgingly drank from it. Her head cleared and she could tell that she was in the basement of her home. The room of the house that Nich used for "business". The smell of rotting cabbage hit her nostrils hard and she was sure she winced.

As she glanced around, she became aware of the fact that her wrists and ankles were bound and Nicholas was watching her. "So how do you feel now?"   
"Better."   
"Good to hear." Nicholas' Cheshire cat grin was starting to get to her, and she glared in response. "As I said before, I don't need you getting in the way of my perfect plan. I need you dead, but I don't need the blood on my hands. So you're going to commit suicide."

"Oh, well, thank you for informing me."

"At least, everyone will believe it's a suicide." He continued over her attempted interruption. "But it's very late, and I'm sure you're tired, so I will see you in the morning." Nicholas closed the door to the room as he left and his footsteps could be heard ascending the steps to the main level.

Talia's mind raced until her thoughts landed on one thing, her daggers. She moved her foot as much as possible against her bonds and found them to be gone. Such was the case with the two that were tucked in her skirt, and the one down her shirt. Her next thought was to summon her wand, but she quickly shot down that idea as well, thinking that Nich would certainly hear her, and the fact that she had soundproofed this room herself.

She slumped back in her chair and tried to plot another course of action. Finally, sleep overtook her.

"It's a fabulous afternoon, isn't it?" Talia wasn't aware she had fallen asleep, but her aching muscles and the migraine that was worsening proved she must have. "It's... afternoon?" she managed.

"Don't we feel confident and self-assured today? Pity." A plate was then set in front of her "Eat dear, we want to keep your strength up." She looked down at the plate and then back up at him. "Oh very funny."

"Silly me, I had forgotten. I shall have a house elf attend to you." He then yelled for an elf, who fed her. When she had finished, he lit a cigar, and began smoking it as he circled her. "There now. I suppose you're wondering a great many things. Like why I'm here, and not in Azkaban." He arched a brow and looked at her.

Talia's face shown curiosity, but she didn't speak.

"What have you heard about the place Talia? Have you heard that most wizards lose their sense of self, their powers, and their will to live within weeks? Well, it's true. But as you can see, I retained all of that."

"But... but how is that possible?" Talia was now on the verge of tears, but she didn't dare let him know that. She steadied her breathing and tried to remain as calm as possible.

"Quite simple, really. Have you ever been near a dementor before? Most people describe it as an intense cold, an overwhelming feeling that you will never be happy again. I didn't need to worry about that, as I was never happy to begin with."

_Authors Notes:_   
Meh. I don't like this chapter. Help me fix it up, PLEASE? And also, does ANYONE like Nich? At all?


End file.
